


Spilled Ink

by Tak138



Series: Commissions [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Groping, Heterosexuality, Humiliation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Verbal Humiliation, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 11:25:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tak138/pseuds/Tak138
Summary: CommisionGist of the commission; femdom, victorian era, dirty talk, hidden sex toys, humiliation.





	Spilled Ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brachydios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brachydios/gifts).



> So, I'm super unsatisfied with this, but I can't keep staring at it. I had a lot of difficulty with the prompt given to me, but I tried my hardest.

Zachariah slipped in, the door slicking closed behind him. “You summoned me, my Lady?”he crooned, eyes glittering. Darcia bristled.

 

“Tell me why I just received a notice from one of the servants--”

 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “A notice? Mm, what about?”

 

“Your improper treatment of one of my guests,”She hissed. 

 

“Which one, my Lady. You have many guests, and I'm awful to all of them.”

 

Darcia grit her teeth, crooking her finger.“So I've been made aware. Come.” 

 

He obeyed, the fading light of the day catching the gold buttons of his overcoat. Grinning like a fiend, he said, “You finally deign to call on me, and you--” she snatched the front of his jacket and yanked him down to her level.

 

“You ought to be beaten into next week.”

 

A twitch of his smile, a tightening of his features. “Cruel woman,”Zachariah whispered, “You left me to entertain your guest while knowing of my reservations. What did you expect?”

 

“I expected my husband to be smart enough to keep himself in line in front of my friends,”retorted Darcia. Zac tried to straighten, tugging uselessly against her grasp. 

 

“Lady Harper is a wretch, you don't need friends like her.”

 

“You’re out of line,”she growled.

 

“You know I can’t stand her! I--”

 

Darcia snarled, “Quiet.”

 

Zachariah closed his mouth.

 

“Are you so desperate for my attention that you have to try and cripple my reputation?”

 

“I didn’t mean--”

 

Darcia held up a hand, her heart pounding with the force of her rage. “That's it, isn't it? You don’t care the cost, you just want my attention. Even if I’m yelling at you. Are you that lonely?”

 

“That’s not true,” Zachariah protested, eyes flashing. He'd always been willful, and she usually didn't mind. It hadn't appeared to he a problem. Or maybe she'd just been foolish.

 

“Oh, yes it is. There’s a word for men like you, you know.” She jostled him, the fabric of his shirt groaning in protest.

 

Zachariah flamed a furious red, unable or unwilling to meet her eyes. “I’m not a whore.”

 

Darcia bared her teeth in a cruel smile. He was pretty like this. “Oh? Always vying for attention, always out of line. You don’t care what I say to you, you just want me to pay you a little bit of mind. Why should I? You’ve proven a dozen times over that you don’t deserve it.”

 

He whined, attempting to pry her fingers off his shirt. She held on, shoving him back until his hips hit her desk.

 

“You  _ are _ a whore, aren’t you?”she hissed, face inches from his. “That’s why you keep getting into trouble.”

 

“Let go of me!”

 

“How far would you go for, I wonder. What if I told you to strip naked and bare yourself to the servants? Would you do it?”

 

Zachariah barked in outrage as she forced him back, grappling for purchase. Papers crumbled, the inkwell toppled, covering his hand in black.

 

Darcia leered, fisting his hair.“I bet you would like it too. Feeling their eyes on you? Knowing what awful things they must be thinking about you?”

 

The fight exhausted from him, Zac slumped. “I wouldn't…”

 

“Tell me Zachariah, are you erect right now?”

 

“No!”

 

“You lie.” She thrust her free hand down the front of his pants, heedless of the belts and underthings, and took him in her hand. “Truly wretched. What sort of honorable man enjoys being scolded?”

 

He bucked, legs splayed. “I don’t enjoy it!”

 

“Really?” She ran a thumb down the length of him. Grunting, he grabbed her shoulders. Wanting to push her away but knowing better. “This tells me quite a different story.”

 

“S-stop--”

 

“Why don’t I send a runner to fetch Lady Harper, so she can see how depraved you really are.”

 

Flushed and sweat slicked, Zachariah pressed his face to the front of her bodice, “M-my Lady-- aah!”

 

Darcia squeezed, raking her nails along his slickened flesh. “Or shall I call for a Madam? Let her make a real whore of you?”

 

Zachariah had ceased pushing against her, now it was all he could do to hold on  

 

“But I bet you’d like that too. To be chained to a sullied mattress, blindfolded, helpless to do anything but moan as countless women took you as their own.”

 

“Tell me, Zachariah, does a whore such as yourself belong in my household?”

 

He panted, twitching in her hand. “S-stop, please, it's too much.”

 

“You’re as awful as those boys on the corner. Worse, because you pretend you’re worth my time.”

 

“I'm sorry,”he gasped, squirming helplessly under her touch, “I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry!”

 

Darcia relented at last. Zachariah sagged, a puppet cut free. He tried to rub away his tears but she caught his hand, indicated the ink, and allowed him to wipe it on a shred of ruined paper.

 

“Tell me how I thought you to be kind,”he rasped. His face was losing its redness, looking paler by the second. 

 

Darcia brushed some of his hair from his face. “I am, considering I'm allowing you to stay in my home after you shame me and insult my friend.”

 

He leaned back on the desk, chest still heaving, as he combed a hand through his tangled. “Lady Harper doesn't deserve to step foot on your estate.”

 

Smoothing out her skirt, Darcia moved to pick up the discarded books. “You hold such a high opinion of me? Or do you just despise her that much.”

 

Zachariah glanced her, expression uneasy. Nauseous, maybe. “She's… worse. A dozen times worse. You play games, you say things. She hurts people.”

 

“You have personal experience?”

 

He shrugged, straightened the front of his coat. Darcia thrust the books into his arms, pointing to the shelf with absent places. “I had hoped you would be sensible enough to maintain poise while around her nonetheless. I was gone for mere minutes, you couldn't have held calm long enough for me to return?”

 

“She knows how to rankle my nerves,”Zac murmured as he shelved the books. 

 

“Even so, you were out of line. You'll need a proper punishment, and I want an apology.”

 

He paused. “Was that not enough for you?”

 

“It was cute,”Darcia hummed, “But you need a  _ proper _ punishment. One that you won't enjoy.”

 

“Cruel, cruel woman,”he whispered. Darcia smirked, dropping into her chair.

 

“Come, dear husband. Show me how sorry you truly are.”

 

Zachariah sighed as he put the last book away. “First you insult me, then you tease me. Now this? I'm still looking for that kindness.”

 

“You expect so much of me.”

 

He shook his head and came to kneel before her. Brushing back her skirt and taking her foot delicately in her hand, he kissed the tip of her shoe, her ankle, and then her calf. Then, fluttering his pretty lashes at her, he breathed “Does this satisfy you, my Lady?”

 

Darcia snorted. “You call my closest friend a bitch to her face, and that's the best you can do?”

 

Zachariah stiffened, then kissed her knee, nuzzling the place where her stockings creased. “My Lady, Mistress of My Heart. Please, what can I do to rectify my mistakes?”

 

Eyeing him for a moment, Darcia tried to guess at his sincerity. If any fear existed behind that stupid, goofy grin. If there was, she decided, it wasn't enough. Not that he should expect her to truly sell him to a brothel, but he was still too comfortable. Far too comfortable. So she grabbed him by the chin, urged him closer, and kissed his brow. “It will take more than kisses and pretty words, dear husband. A lot more.”

 

“Anything,”he promised. Darcia cackled.

 

“Oh, you’re going to wish you never said that.”

  
  
  


“It seems you’ve given him quite the beating,”Harper mused, as she nursed her glass of wine. 

 

Darcia hummed noncommittally. Across the room, though the mingling crowd, Zachariah was chatting quietly with a few of his friends. Stiff as a board, each step an effort. Some of the other men had appeared sympathetic, politely ignoring the evidence of punishment as they chattered like canaries. What they thought to be evidence, anyways. 

 

Seated on the chez with her friend, Darcia sipped from her cup. “He just gotten what he deserves, that's all.”

 

Harper smiled wickedly, the black of her eyes flashing with amusement. “As it should be.”

 

Over by his friends, Zachariah shifted, tugging subtly at his pant leg. The rope must be grinding against his skin under all those clothes. She thought of the red marks he was going to have to struggle with for the next few days, and smirked.

 

“What exactly did you do to him?”asked Harper. “He's not presenting like he's been cowed.”

 

As if sensing their conversation, Zachariah glanced over his shoulder at them, meeting Darcia's eye. Then shuddered. 

 

She didn't answer. It was a little while later when Lady Harper had to depart, kissing both of Darcia's cheeks and cooing a farewell to Zac. He watched her go, face blotched red and white. Then went all red as Dacia beckoned him closer.

 

He approached carefully, barely managing to dodge the other guests with his jagged steps. Exasperated, he asked, “What can I do for you, Mistress?”

 

Darcia took another long drink of her wine, crossing one leg over the other. “Don't look so wan, Love. I merely wanted to know if you were enjoying the party.”

 

“It's… lovely,” he grunted, teeth gritted. “I'm having the time of my life. Is that truly why you called for me? I was in the middle of--”

 

Darcia holds up a finger, smirking at the way his mouth snaps shut. “Mind your tone, Love. Things may be unpleasant for you now, but then can get a whole lot worse.”

 

“This is more than unpleasant,”Zac whispers, “It hurts.”

 

“You love it, admit it,”Darcia snickers. The red in his cheeks sharpens. 

 

She thinks of his face when she pulled the toy from a drawer; blown of pretty blue-hued glass, long, ridged, shaped like a haphazardly written J. The gaping part of his mouth, horrified and intrigued. 

 

Zac shifts from foot to foot, fingers twitching. “I… would have rathered we kept it to our bedroom.”

 

“Where's the fun in that?”Darcia croons, offering him her glass. He takes it gratefully, and downs the rest of it in one gulp. Enjoying the sight of him finally off balance, she goes on  “Did you tell your friends of your punishment?”

 

“No!”he yelps, a bit too loudly. A few people in the immediate area look over, but Dacia keeps her expression smooth.

 

“Come,”she says, straightening on the chez and patting the space next to her, “Sit with me.”

 

He hesitates, teeth worrying beautifully at his lower lip. At last Zachariah began to settle down next to her, panting through another wave of shameful pleasure as the toy no doubt rubbed all the right places inside of him. His nails pierce the couch, the glittering light of the chandelier catching in the sweat on his brow. “I’ve been good, haven’t I? I’ve been trying to be good,”he croaks. Eyes on the crowd, his hips began to rock in a slow, easy rhythm. Feeding the pleasure in his belly.

 

Darcia eyes a hovering servant, letting them fill her glass with more wine. “Yes,”she agreed as she drinks, “You’ve been better.” And he had. Zachariah’s reservation with parties was no small secret, and the fact that he was trying so very hard to act the part of the docile husband was satisfying to no end. Though she had no doubt that it was largely in part to the phallus she’d imparted him with. His desperate, fleeting glances at her had been a pleasant addition.

 

“It’s been awhile since I let you seek your own pleasure, hasn’t it?”muses Darcia, her voice a conspirator's whisper. “How long, exactly?”

 

Zachariah fidgets. “Three months, my Lady.”

 

“Truly? I must be a terribly cruel wife.”

“It… hasn’t been easy.”

 

“You seem to be enjoying it well enough,”she says. Her fingers find the ridges of the rope beneath his pants, and Zachariah flushes an unflattering red. She skirts along the hem at his hips, hooking one finger behind his belt. “Look at you; you’re loving it.”

 

He swallows, “Please…”

 

“Please what, dear husband?”Darcia whispers. “Are you asking for what I think you are?”

 

Zachariah didn’t respond right away, but something must have happened because the next sound out of his mouth is a low, desperate keen. “My Lady, please, I-I--”

 

“Keep rutting like that, and everyone’s going to know what you’re doing,”she murmurs. Zac froze, breath stuttering.

 

“I hate this,”he gasps, “I hate this. I hate this and I hate whomever made this infernal toy.”

 

Darcia laughs as if he said something funny, her nails digging into his thigh. “Hate it all you want, Love. It won't change anything.”

 

Zhariah grits his teeth. “You wretched--”she squeezes, nearly forming a fist. Her husband fell silent.

 

They sit like that for a long minute, Darcia with her lips on her wine glass, Zachariah trembling. 

Then she brushes a kiss to his ear.

 

“I want you to visit every guest in the parlor. Play the proper host.”

 

Zac swallows, but doesn't question. He rises to his feet, and hobbled away to greet the nearest cluster of people. Darcia doesn't think she knows half of them; the party had been hastily pulled together, the whole block invited. Partly to mingle, mostly to watch Zachariah try not to humiliate himself. That was how she spent the rest of the evening. Everytime Zac would shoot her a miserable glance, she would only flash her teeth in reply. Let him suffer. It was no less than he deserved. 

 

Then, as the party came to an end and guests finally shuffled out, Zachariah came to her again. Shaking, swaying; he almost looked drunk. 

 

“Mistress,”he croaked, “Please. Please, may I--”

 

Darcia held up a hand. “Yes, you may. Bathe as well. I want you in my quarters within the hour.”

 

He could hardly move fast enough. Largely due to the fact that he didn't dare walk faster than a shuffle.

 

Thirty minutes later, Darcia was in her night clothes, warning her hands over the fire in the hearth when Zachariah walked in. He no longer smelled of sweat and male arousal, but like her bath oils. Lavender, and lemongrass. She breathed it in, beckoning him closer with a finger.

 

“Feeling better?”she asks, as she tangles her fingers through his still wet hair. Burying his face in her shoulder, Zachariah groans,

 

“I'm still sore. Next time, will you just beat me instead?”

 

Darcia hums a little laugh. “You say that as if it might hurt less.”

 

“I can take pain just fine. But walking around with that thing up my ass? Fuck, it was the worst.”

 

“Oh hush; you loved it.”

 

Against her neck, she felt him smirking. “I would have loved it a hundred times more if you would actually let me get off.”

 

“It was  _ punishment _ , Zac,”murmures Darcia. “And barely one at that.”

 

Zachariah groa s again, his arms looping tentatively around her waist, as if he expected to be chastised. Then tightened, when he was not. “You torture me, my Lady.”

 

“You torture yourself. You truly must like it, considering how much trouble you get into.”

 

“... in part,”he admits, a shiver trailing through him as she ran a finger down his lower back, tracing the faded rope abrasions. “I also just really don't like a lot of your friends.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Zachariah breathes a sigh. “They call me names when you aren't around, mock me. They’re just mean.”

 

Darcia raises a brow. “I do those things. I did those things yesterday, and you were resides yourself with the thrill of it.”

 

“You're my lady; you know I like it. You say those things to shame me, but you know I don’t mind being shamed. Your friends say those things because they want to hurt my feelings.”

 

That was… a decent distinction, she supposed. 

 

“I'll make you a deal,”Darcia said at length. “I'll try my very best not to leave you alone with any of my guests, and in turn you'll keep your mouth shut if I have to.”

 

“Deal,”Zachariah mumbles. She heard the jest on his voice, and knew that he'd enjoyed the evening more than he led on. Oh well.

 

She stepped back, gently taking his hand and leading to the bed. “Come, I--”

 

He snickers, “I thought I wasn't allowed to sleep with you after a punishment?”

 

“Oh-- shut up, you ghastly thing. Be grateful I didn't make you sleep outside, ”Darcia quips, as she slides under the quilt.

 

Zac, still laughing, followed behind.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [ Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/tak138)


End file.
